Story of an Unsung Hero
by Aika01
Summary: Join Sesa 'Refumee from the time he realizes the truth about the Holy Ring, to the time he met his untimely end at the hands of the Arbiter. Who, ironically, joined the Covenant Separatists later. R&R.
1. How Very Excellent

"Excellent

A/N Remember to review on your way out! 

Disclaimer: Edited by Imsi. Halo is owned by Bungie, it isn't owned by me

_**Imsi, die! **__**Pathetic wimp! She shall fall to the mighty power of the… Humans!!) She is such a Covie lover… Go Sergeant Johnson! May he rest in peace.**_

How very excellent

"Excellent! I believe I see assistance approaching…"

A towering ship approached. Purple and sleek yet oh so primitive, it was obviously of the Meddlers' design. A research vessel, with two powerful thrusters and elementary weapons system. Most of the design was startlingly similar to Spark's creator's technology. If Guilty Spark did not know any better, he could very well have said somebody had been stealing Forerunner technology. The Monitor, 343 Guilty Spark, bobbed impatiently as the ship continued on its slow progress towards what remained of the Installation. Finally, the ship hovered near the broken pieces of Halo.

Guilty Spark floated to where the gravity lifts were established before sending a signal. In response, the ship's gravity lift activated, carrying the Monitor into the great vessel. Excellent.

Spark hovered along the corridors. Corridors that were as sickly purple as the ships interior.

Sesa 'Refumee was the ships commander. At the moment, he was examining what remained of the Holy Ring. Prophet curse the Demon who committed such sacrilege. Wrecked pieces of Halo drifted lazily in the stars. Even broken and ravaged, it still held such unearthly beauty. He stared for a moment and mourned the loss of such a great Holy Relic when the ships alarm sounded.

"Excellency!" It was Tkum 'Funamee, his second-in-command and one of the youngest aboard the vessel. An Aristocrat, 'Funamee had no mate but already fathered many children. "There has been an unexpected usage of the Gravity Lift and an impostor is on board. We suspect it is the Demon as sensors are unable to identify the intruder. Sensors have managed to identify one thing however. There is an Associated Intelligence absorbing our database. We also believe that might be the Demon's AI."

_Ah, finally. __Rightful revenge upon the Demon. _'Refumee clicked his mandibles in anticipation. "Get a Special Operations team ready. Kill the Demon! Show no mercy upon its filth!"

"Your Will, Excellency." 'Funamee began issuing orders as 'Refumee lay in wait for sweet vengeance.

Quite surprisingly, 'Funamee came back trailed with the usual admiring eyes a lot faster than 'Refumee would have expected. Sesa prepared himself for Tkum's failure that he had expected. But if he was still liked and admired by the younger Sanghelli, could he have failed? 'Funamee certainly did not seem sorry. In fact, he seemed elated, jubilant. So much, that he curled his mandibles inwards in an outright grin, for once heedless to his 'fans'. At first, 'Refumee could not understand the younger Sangheili's behaviour until he saw who followed behind.

"The Oracle!" the Sangheili gasped. In all his years, he would never have even dreamt to meet the Oracle. In an act of respect, he bowed along with the rest of the bridge members. The Oracle hummed cheerily, a strange background song, much in contrast to the solemn environment.

"Oracle? Why do you Meddlers always insist on using such inaccurate terms?"

'Refumee was confused… 'Inaccurate terms?' Was the Oracle not who the Prophets thought he was?

"I am a genius!"

"Are you not the Oracle, the one in charge of the Sacred Ring?"

"Oracle? Good gracious me, how inaccurate, in my dictionary, the word 'Oracle' really means a prophesy. My designation is 343 Guilty Spark, the Monitor of Installation 04, a relic of the Forerunners which you so inaccurately call the 'Sacred Ring,' or 'Halo'." 343 Guilty Spark was ecstatic. For over 100 thousand years, he had nobody to talk to. Nobody except his Sentinels, which were constantly at a loss for words. He giggled. He made a joke. Finally, there was a whole group of sentient beings, eager to hear him preach. He might even stop them from using such inaccurate terms! "Installation 04 was built to annihilate the Flood. There is only one way— to starve the Flood to death. To deprive them of food. Their diet is everything that has sufficient biomass to maintain them. In order to starve them to death, we must first kill their diet, which is everything. To kill their diet, Installation 04 was invented by the Forerunners. It will kill all life. Ingenious!"

_The Flood? T__he Oracle probably means the Parasite, _'Refumee thought.

In spite of the eccentric, happy tone of voice that the Oracle used to explain the function of the great ring, the ominous meaning was clear in a few minutes as 'Refumee bended his mind around the new truth, no. New possibility. The truth, if it indeed were, was harsh, as most truths are. At learning this so abruptly, naturally the Zealot's feeling of ecstasy at meeting the Oracle drained away.

No, it could not be true. The Sangheili refused to accept that. Surely the Oracle was referring to something else. Had it gone unchecked, driven to madness throughout its years in isolation? Impossible. However, if it had not gone insane, then he would be forced to accept the Great Journey was false. Two improbable choices. Humming, the strange voice that shot through three octaves in a single sentence, the longwinded speeches. Insanity was a possibility. The Oracle, however, knew truth, could see through lies. It was practically a god. Truth was a possibility. The others wrestled with their minds as well. This was not like any honourable battle where the fittest survived, any mêlée that the crew and captain had ever experienced. The Zealot forced himself to consider both choices. If they could be thought of as choices.

'Choice' One: The Oracle was insane. Driven to a corner of its mind from isolation, separation of other beings. Its teachings were what it believed to be true, but were actually false.

'Choice' Two: The Oracle was speaking the truth. The Prophets were lying. The Great Journey was simply suicide. The 'Next World' was not godhood, but death. There was no Great Journey. The Prophets would sacrifice them all for nothing, leading them into slaughter.

He did not like either choice, but as he thought about it, he realized both choices involved the Prophets being deceits. Deceitful in Choice One by hinting the Oracle was totally sane, and practically an almighty god. In Choice Two, they lied. The Prophets… Their will must be done. Yet, he could not shake of a feeling, this feeling of foreboding off. Their Will, a beacon of light to his eyes. A single goal, shared common by countless others. Before, that gave him a sense of comfort and belonging. A sense of connection. A common light in the darkness. Now, he was uneasy. All his buildings of reason and faith… It was as if it had been warned of an earthquake, a phenomenon found on the human world that shook the ground. That shook the ground like the Forerunners' wrath.

The Forerunners… Who were they but shadowy figures of the past with only the Prophets words on their true beings?

The Prophets had taught him about the Oracle as well. A mark, another milestone of the Great Journey. It was a milestone for him, but not in the same way. It could either build his already strong faith to something invincible, or break it to nothing. In any case, the Oracle had obviously chosen something. Had chosen a side. The Oracle, guardian of the ring… Perhaps a little eccentric, but its knowledge was unlimited, had to be true. The Oracle had chosen. The Prophets had chosen. Now, he had though unwilling to even make a choice, wishing to stay ignorant of the cruelty that befell him. But that was the truth, was it not? Possibly. Always possibly. He chuckled derisively though nothing about this was funny. He had chosen, but was still choosing… Or not.

As soon as he thought this, his world, his sanctuary in his mind, felt as though it had been glassed. Like on a glassed planet which surface was reflective, he felt as if he was staring at himself, looking down at the glass. Staring at his reflection, the Sangheili that was made up of himself and the lies of the Prophets. But on a glassed planet, there was also dust. The dust that blurred his mirror image. Who was he now?

_Sesa 'Refumee, where do your loyalties lie?_

He stood up fully now, and clicked his mandibles for attention. His body trembled, not with rage and that was something that rarely, or even never, happened.

"Brothers! What is this you ask? This 'treachery'? This 'heresy'? I do not know. Yes, I do not know. But all must choose, as must I. All must choose what they think, for whatever reason. All must choose the honourable choice"—the Kig-Yar shifted uncomfortably—"All must choose the truth, or at least what they believe is true. We must choose, not for benefit, but for change. We must choose, not for 'old times', but for true times.

"I have chosen. I do not know if I am right, or someone who has chosen otherwise is right. I am unsure, on a path on my own. For now. By saying this, I imagine you know what I have chosen. I am unsure of my choice, but even more volatile, though by little, of the other. I will tell you my choice.

"The Prophets' words ring false in my ears now. However, the Oracle's ring true! Follow me, brothers, the rebellion begins!" Sesa 'Refumee was unsure of his decision, but there was no stepping back. He knew he would be hunted down by the Prophets. He drew his sword and roared in rebellion against all the lies he had once believed.

"Stop! Lies and treachery are all you have? 'Refumee! Traitorous mind, once brilliant. Are you rebelling against the Great Journey? The step to the Next World?" his second-in-command furiously and disbelievingly interjected.

"'Funamee. I suspected you would choose this. You are blinded by what you once believed. There is no Great Journey. The idea of it, however, is what I am rebelling against. They will drive us to our deaths. You have been well deceived, as have I. But now, surely you see the truth!"

'Refumee's second-in-command, Tkum Funamee, ground his mandibles angrily. "If you cannot see, we shall sort this out in battle! Come now, all who are loyal to the Great Journey! The rest will burn in the Forerunner's wrath." Tkum glared at 'Refumee, clicking his mandibles in frustration.

The crew was unsure. Several Unggoy ran in circles as they would have in combat with the Demon. The Sangheili, twenty-six in total excluding Sesa and Tkum, paced around as their buildings of reason and beliefs toppled. Huragok hovered above the rest, level with the Oracle, oblivious of the drama unfolding. They floated around on gas bladders, contently fixing the equipment some hysterical Unggoy was wrecking. After 'Funamee fired a few impatient shots into the air, the Unggoy decided. Most joined 'Refumee. For too long have their kind died for the 'Great Journey' the promise of eternal warmth. Their natural fear be damned, this was something real to fight for: Truth.

The 15 Kig-Yar decided next, seeing the Unggoy move to 'Refumee, immediately joined 'Funamee. Besides, the Covenant was paying them for their services. The Sangheili were the last. They thought until their clouded minds became ever more muddled, thought until all had made a decision. Ten to 'Refumee and sixteen to 'Funamee.

"All has decided, then. All has chosen their sides. Some betraying me, their **captain**—"

"—and some betraying the Great Journey!" Funamee growled. "We will fight to the end! You are no true Zealot."

Trotting to the ship, Tkum's division followed loyally. The battle was obviously to be in the vessel. 'Refumee and his section stayed poised outside, hands and claws on the holster of their weapons. They were, however, still honour bound. They would wait until each side was ready for battle. The opposing division sank into the darkness of the ship. All except 'Funamee. He paused, turning to face the rest on the structure and the Oracle.

"There will be a battle. And I will win it." He paused once more, then cried out.

"Death to the traitors!"

A/N Please Review! _'A tank's a tank, lightbulb.'_


	2. The First Rebellion

The ship was a war zone, divided into two sections—the Seperatists and the Loyalists

The First Rebellion

The ship was a war zone, divided into two sections—the Separatists and the Loyalists. It was volatile and dangerous. One of the most dangerous parts was navigating through the ship, even if you were in your own section. The enemy could easily send spies into the other side, seeing as the ship was so large. The gravity lifts, yet another prime example, could easily malfunction as the opposing side could sabotage it. They used the ramps now, but that was no harsh liability. Sometimes, when the opposing side was foolish enough to send a particularly hysterical Kig-Yar or Unggoy, the enemy was either forced to join the other side, or jettisoned out of the grav-lifts.

Sesa 'Refumee was uneasy. Their weapons supplies were running dangerously low, and the platoon sent to steal more from the Loyalists' base was not back yet. Drawing an Energy Sword from their limited weapons cache, he walked around until he was at the border of Neutral Zones B and C. The refectory's and kitchen's loyalties were still undecided. Luckily, one of 'Refumee's late spies had informed him that the Loyalists were running out of food. 'Refumee sent more guards to the border, and now they were hiding in the shadows, waiting. Snagging a snack one of the guards tossed to him, he ate it slowly. After a while, he departed to base.

"I need you to steal a few weapons from the enemy, and figure out what happened to the Spec-Ops platoon I sent out there," Sesa ordered a Sangheili. "Ready a team." The Sanghelli clicked his mandibles in agreement and made off with a Plasma Rifle. Now, time for a distraction.

"Come," he ordered a Zealot. "Lead a team to secure Neutral Zone Sections B and C. I will join the battle. Equip the Unggoy with Plasma Pistols. That we have more quantity of at least. Let one use a Needler. Make sure that Unggoy is of a high rank and is not defeated easily. Strategically position yourselves and ensure that there are no snipers."

"Yes, sir." He began issuing orders, and the sound faded as Sesa went back to the refectory. The battle would soon begin.

Before he expected it, an overcharged Plasma Bolt sank into the wall opposite him, nailing an unsuspecting Kig-Yar. An Unggoy had hit it. The Kig-Yar got back up, but not before several more Plasma Bolts, quick in succession though it was from a Plasma Pistol, killed it.

"Snipers, on the ready." There were only two Beam Rifles, so the Snipers were limited, unfortunately. But the Separatists had more energy than the starved Loyalists who fed hungrily on their empty faith of the Prophets.

"Fire at will."

A few purple shots sounded and three Kig-Yar fell. How did they know they were planning an ambush? They knew it early enough to position snipers… perhaps a spy. Interrupting his train of thought, another sound was heard—two, actually. A snipe and a thud. An Unggoy was dead. The Zealot 'Refumee appointed moved his hands slightly in signal and the Kig-Yar sniper fell from behind some Unggoy food that masked his own scent. From the opposite door leading to the Loyalist's, 'Refumee saw slight smudges in the background—Active Camouflage. He turned to the Zealot, who ordered, "Activate Active Camouflage."

Now, all Sanghelli were invisible. Pacing to the opposing side, Sesa approached a Sanghelli Loyalist. He realized this was his old friend—Balo 'Kilomee. As he assassinated Balo, a pain, which was not a Plasma Bolt that skimmed his side, pierced him. He would be making sacrifices. Many. He jumped up onto a crate, dodging the next shot and lunged at the perpetrator, a Kig-Yar whose shield hissed as it failed. Taking its Plasma Pistol, 'Refumee charged it. He shot another Kig-Yar with the overcharged bolt, lowering its shields as an Unggoy finished it off. Then, a Plasma Grenade landed at his feet.

Luckily, it was a poor shot. Not even landing on him. Even so, he had no time to escape or jump. Time was running out. It had already run out. As his mind raced through his options, the Plasma Grenade was exploding. Come on, brain, think. There were no options.

It exploded.

Thrown off his feet, 'Refumee tasted blood in his mouth. He crashed into Unggoy rations. Not the most pleasant thing to crash in. The worst part, however, was a surprised Kig-Yar aiming a Plasma Rifle at him. Behind him, a Sanghelli who probably was going to be alerted to Sesa's presence soon. Dazed and disoriented, 'Refumee's reflexes, too, were slowed. Was there time or was this his fate? Luckily, though he was welcomed in it, Unggoy rations were not his grave.

An Unggoy saw 'Refumee fly into the air and into food. Unggoy rations, actually. Waddling at top speed, the only Unggoy to have been entrusted a Needler approached the Kig-Yar. There was no time to shoot any Needles—if there were, he might hit 'Refumee. So the Unggoy threw a Plasma Grenade. Two, actually. The other to a Sanghelli Loyalist, just turning to the sack of rations where the wounded Sanghelli lay. He knew Sesa would not be hurt by the splatter.

Refumee thought the Kig-Yar would shoot straight away, or at least warn his superior, but shock had stopped him just for a moment. Good. He started to lunge… Wait, where was his Sword? He stopped and felt around. Then, he scanned the area quickly. There! It was buried deep in the rations. His Sword was probably more important than the Kig-Yar due to the weapon shortage. His Plasma Pistol was also next to it. He turned to get it, moving away form the Kig-Yar, and to the ration centre, glimpsing a blue grenade. Sesa 'Refumee opened his mandibles (but not too much, because of the unpleasant Unggoy rations) and curled them slightly inwards, the equivalent of a smile.

Two blasts sounded in the battle air as Sesa felt a slight shudder in the rations. The shield around his hooves stuttered a bit, but not too much. Finally, they recharged as 'Refumee reached his weapons. Emerging from the rations, he stood at the ready, greeting his savior.

He caught a glimpse of the Unggoy who saved him, but only a glimpse in which the Unggoy ensured his safe emerge from the food. The Unggoy then turned to shoot a Sanghelli Loyalist. Suddenly, 'Refumee realized a Plasma Grenade was at his hooves. He picked it up. Now, he could stick someone. Behind the Unggoy that saved him, a Zealot Loyalist moved silently in for the kill.

Instead of using the Plasma Grenade, Sesa lunged at the Zealot, and slashed five times with lightning speed and fury before the Zealot fell. As he did, the Unggoy that rescued him was having trouble with three Kig-Yar that were closely grouped together. It was _so _obvious. Shields at critical, 'Refumee tossed the grenade. It landed on the Kig-Yar to the left, and did its work. Two Kig-Yar were killed, and the remaining one fled. The Unggoy did not waste time turning around, instead killing a Kig-Yar sniper. Then it turned around and wiggled its snail-like top. Unggoy often did this in gratitude, though sometimes it was to display its romantic affections to one another. Lucky for 'Refumee, it wasn't the latter.

Sesa quickly assessed the situation as the Unggoy jumped behind a crate. A few, perhaps five Unggoy were dead on the ground, but no Sanghelli Separatists were. Yet. On his right, one was dying and another's shields were at critical. The one that was dying took cover in a savory meal of _Habti_ and was protected by its gigantic shell. The one whose shields were at critical was protecting the dying one. Swiftly, Sesa moved over to the plate of _Habti_. He took over from the other Sanghelli, ordering him to treat the dying one's wounds.

Sanghelli knew elementary doctoring and a portable med-kit stored in their amour that would self-destruct when the Sanghelli user was dead, unless another Sanghelli keyed in a code that would preserve the kit for further use. 'Refumee knew that particular Sanghelli had learnt further doctoring skills because of his profile. He was eligible for Ship's Doctor, but that post was taken up by Balo. He was the unofficial assistant.

Sesa kept on firing, targeting the Kig-Yar… there were so many. His motion sensor pulsed with red and yellow dots. Directly behind him, another. Deftly twisting his hand to meet the Loyalist, he shifted his hoof to catch the others', if it were a Sanghelli. It caught, and his enemy fell. The Energy Sword hanging at his back probably was at the enemy's throat now, so he twisted his hip. Then he turned around after killing another Kig-Yar.

Facing him with empty blue eyes was a gold-amour clad Sanghelli, twisted on the ground by the oldest trick in the book. He was facing upwards, and Sesa knew he had been facing the opposite direction. In his hand, a Carbine. Sesa stared at him for a moment, walking around the body. "I taught you better than that… to be tricked by me. As it was the last time," 'Refumee whispered to the dead Loyalist. He stood there for a moment, until an overcharged Plasma Shot reminded him why he was here.

The battle raged on, but was soon brought to a stop when the Separatists killed… 3 Sanghelli and 12 Kig-Yar. The Separatists had lost some people as well…1 Sanghelli and 10 Unggoy. Not as much, thankfully. The mission 'Refumee set up went smoothly, except for the fact that an Unggoy was injured. They had recovered many weapons. Among them were Carbines, Beam Rifles, Fuel Rod Cannons and more Energy Blades. Now, it was a ceremony of loss.

"Brothers, let us mourn for the losses, both Separatist and Loyalist. For those who died for change, and those who died in honor, but for an empty promise. A promise of salvation through the Great Journey. We have seen through that lie, brothers. That is something to rejoice. Let us mourn our old friends, let us mourn our comrades. Let us learn, let us see, let us live, let us change." After the traditional burial, they stood staring into space. Each to his own. Finally, they stopped and cleaned the kitchen and refectory.

They conquered, they had mourned and now it was time for the celebrations. The stuffing of foods into one's mandibles until one's mandibles wriggled with delight. Traditionally, the second-in-command of the ship or platoon did it, but given the circumstances, 'Refumee opened the ceremony.

"Brothers, rejoice in the territory taken!"—_A refectory_, 'Refumee thought sourly—"We will be taking more, soon. But for now, relish in the food, the festivities!" An Unggoy jumped, twirled in jubilance and landed in its own food. That started the festivities.

All jumped at the chance to eat after a long battle. The Unggoy dug into one of their delicacies—_Crudom_—stuffing their faces. One even inhaled special laughing fluids. The Sanghelli were less messy in the eating, but were equally enthusiastic. Eating perhaps a plateful of _Habti_ and drinking some _Fuq Ha_, they happily curled in their mandibles and wriggled them tentatively. 'Refumee joined in curtly, not stuffing too much into his mouth. Beside him, Mika Defosee drank some _Fuq Ha_ politely. They talked, of course, but not much.

Soon, all _Habti_ was finished, so Mika brought out some_ Dea_, something more to Sesa's liking. He devoured it quickly. Feeling quite full, he drank some _Pki_, then departed to his cabin. Sleep claimed him then, but he could not evade the dreams that came with it.

So rare were dreams in the Sanghelli lifestyle that other races, particularly the Unggoy, found it strange. Perhaps one dream every two years, or two if you were lucky. Warriors had dreams more often but only once a year. 'Refumee's dream was clear, as most Sanghelli's are. He was standing on a ledge, a thin one with ground on one side and air on the other. He was about to step on the ground, when the Oracle appeared. How strange.

The Oracle stared with its bright light, not saying anything. Stopping his hoof from reaching the ground, he brought it up. He wobbled now but kept his balance… Barely. He put his hoof on the air and let his weight fall. Now a Drone caught hold of him and a Ranger hovered in front. _Come, _it said. _To the Great Journey. To the ground._ But Sesa said no. The Ranger waved goodbye, something only humans did. The Drone kept its hold but there was already ground below him. Somehow, 'Refumee did not want to walk on this new ground. However, the Drone had already dropped him. Then, everything was all right.

Sesa woke up. That dream… What did it mean?

A/N Pls review. Thanks for reading. 


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